Just a small one-shot I wrote after a discussion on discord.
The noise of a scratching pen was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of the library. It was expected, after all, as the said room was to remain quiet at all times. For that, people who couldn't keep their voices down were banned— Medb when Cu was there and vice versa, the children when they were hyped up on sugar, Iskandar, in general, was banned along with Kintoki and Spartacus (none of the three had a concept of "quiet" in reality) and Blackbeard and Drake were banned from being less than ten feet from each other in the room. There were others, and often Shakespeare would find himself on the verge of getting kicked out, but he used the excuse of being one of the librarians to save his hide.
Aside from the playwright, the library was a room of quiet murmurs and soft movements.
And of course, at three in the morning when only Andersen was there, it was dead quiet.
That's why the Caster stopped writing when the telltale clink of armor sounded from deep within the library. It wasn't a soft noise, per se, not like Bedivere's or even Karna's armor, which were relatively light, it wasn't even the same noise that came from Lancelot or Georgios— their armor was heavier, but not like this. This was the noise of armor that was heavy, armor that matched a broadsword that could cleave a primordial beast's wings off.
He knew who it was at the sound alone.
So he was back again.
The Assassin had shown up of his own accord, startling Ritsuka and Gudako when he did. They should have been used to it, seeing how Merlin and Holmes both had done the same, but after failing to get a response from him after several attempts… Well, safe to say the two Masters gave up using resources and only getting essences in return. Then almost as soon as they did, he appeared suddenly on New Years, dragging Musashi behind him.
Former Grand Assassin, Hassan-i-Sabbah— The Old Man of the Mountain. Between the other Servants and the Masters, the seven-foot-tall Assassin had ended up with a variety of names. From "Great Founder" to "King Hassan" and even "Gramps" or "Grandpa", the armored figure never commented on them. He responded when addressed, occasionally gave small lectures and bits of wisdom, but he never stopped for idle chat.
Andersen knew that from witnessing Jing Ke and Musashi get blatantly ignored when they tried to start idle chat with him.
The blue-haired Caster only glanced back up from his work when a long and large shadow fell over him. Blue eyes stared into blue flame before he sighed, moving from his desk to the reception one.
"You're here late," he commented as he took the book that was placed on the desk and flipped open to the back. As usual, he got no response from the Assassin as he pulled the card from the back pocket of the book. He scribbled a return date on the paper sleeve before jotting the same date on the card. Tucking the card into the desk drawer, he handed the book back— though there was no real reason for him to go through the check-out process.
The book would be back on the desk by morning, usually set down so lightly it wouldn't wake him up after finally passing out at the desk from a night of writing.
"Well, just get it back by the date," he said as he handed the book to the armored man. He only got a nod in return before the figure turned and walked back between the rows and stacks of books.
Andersen sighed.
Perhaps one day the Assassin would save him the trouble of simply taking the book and reading it instead of going all the way to the desk to check it out— only to go back and read it elsewhere in the room.
He supposed there could be worse things, though. At least the Old Man of the Mountain was gentle with the books.
I'm not saying that King Hassan is an avid reader, but I'm saying he's an avid reader. Also, Andersen is pretty observant, I have no doubts that he can distinguish the way armor clinks from servant to servant. Anyways, this was just something I decided to write after the conversation I had.